


The Tech-Whisperer

by LivewirePrime, ZephyrElf (orphan_account)



Series: A Technopathic Techie and his Terageese [1]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Acceptance, Anxiety, Background Relationships, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Forgiveness, Happy Ending, Healing, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Manipulation, Megatron loves the Scavs, One Big Happy Family, Outlier!Fulcrum, POV varies by chapter, Past Brainwashing, Past Relationship(s), Secrets, Storytelling, no interrogations here, shadowplay
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-19
Updated: 2019-10-19
Packaged: 2020-12-24 08:02:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21096122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LivewirePrime/pseuds/LivewirePrime, https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/ZephyrElf
Summary: Misfire leaned in closer to Megatron, shielding his intake from his teammates with his hand before whispering in a mock conspiratorial tone that everyone could definitely still hear, "You know, his knack for technology is almost scary. It's like he's a tech-whisperer or something!"In which some innocuous, fun storytelling in Swerve's instantly goes south.





	The Tech-Whisperer

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own Transformers or any of its characters!
> 
> Enjoy!

** Swerve's Bar, Alternate Lost Light **

_ These Scavengers are _ ** _fascinating, _ **Megatron thought to himself with a small smile as he sipped his energon and listened to the wild stories they had to share. 

Of course, he knew at least a little bit about every single one of his Decepticons, but there was only so much that the numbers and raw data could provide. Meeting his Decepticons in person, even lowly, wayward crews like the Scavengers, _ especially crews like the Scavengers, _ was refreshing.

"...and that's not even the best part!" Misfire exclaimed after a fit of laughter.

Megatron felt his lips curl into an amused smirk. "And what would the best part be?"

"**_Fortress Maximus_ ** actually _ believed _ that Fulcrum was a demolitions expert! They even double checked Autopedia and took the fake entry we made for 'Fulcrum of ** _Chinnex'_ **-" everyone at the table, even Megatron, had to stifle a giggle at the obviously fake location, "-completely seriously!"

The stifled giggles quickly boiled over into full-blown laughter, and Megatron couldn't help but admire the team's high morale, getting sucked into their contagious laughter. _And…_ _They were able to tamper with Autopedia?_ Curiosity got the better of him, and once he stopped laughing so hard, breathlessly asked, "How did you do it? Hack Autopedia, I mean."

"Oh, that was all Fulcrum!" Misfire leaned in closer to Megatron, shielding his intake from his teammates with his hand before whispering in a mock conspiratorial tone that everyone could definitely still hear, "You know, his knack for technology is almost scary. It's like he's a tech-whisperer or something!"

Next to Misfire, Fulcrum went rigid in his chair, looking distinctly uncomfortable - _ guilty, _ even - before quickly recovering, into something more akin to humility and embarrassment, his orange faceplates adopting a pinkish glow. The change was so quick that anyone less observant might have missed it. The orange mech sheepishly raised a hand to the back of his helm - _ that gesture seems off somehow _\- as he minimized the claim with, "What can I say? I'm a techie." 

Megatron's eyes narrowed_. That's some Functionist slag if I've ever heard it._ _Something isn't right, here._

Fulcrum then proceeded to deflect with, "Besides, Krok really deserves more praise than I do, it was his quick thinking that even led them to consider that there might have been explosives planted throughout the facility. It's just a coincidence they checked Autopedia and happened to find my fake entry to confirm that I was indeed a demolitions expert."

Megatron raised an optic ridge, considering the humble hacker. He wasn't going to worm his way out of the path of curiosity so easily. "As true as that may be, Fulcrum, many other Decepticons have tried and failed to get past high-clearance Autobot firewalls. No mere techie would be able to hack something as guarded as Autopedia."

All eyes were focused on Fulcrum at that point, and the orange mech squirmed under the attention. "W-well… You've got me there, Lord Megatron."

Megatron restrained a twitch at the use of his old Lord title, and recognized the distraction tactic for what it was. "Just Megatron is fine. Please, humor me?" 

"Is this really the right time and place to discuss something like this?" Fulcrum asked, his optics flicking around the bar. 

_There's that anxiety again,_ Megatron noted, and then cautiously followed Fulcrum's gaze, to see… Brainstorm, chatting with_\- Oh. The mnemosurgeon, Chromedome… _Megatron had to admit he still felt unnerved by being in such close quarters with the mnemosurgeon. He wasn't sure exactly what Fulcrum's hold up was with either of the mechs who were chatting in the distance, but figured it had to do with Chromedome, if his earlier gesture of touching the back of his helm was any indication. It was clear Fulcrum didn't want to be in his presence when revealing how he hacked Autopedia. _I suppose I wouldn't want to be, either, if I were in his pedes_. "We could always relocate," Megatron graciously proposed. He was pleased at the flicker of relief he saw in the smaller mech's optics.

"Why would it not be fine to talk about here?" Misfire asked. "We're all friends - at least I think we are-"

"Misfire-" Krok politely interjected but was cut off as Misfire continued.

"-So you can tell us! It's not like we're going to kick you out of the Scavengers at this point or anything. You're one of us, no matter what!" 

Krok was pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. "Misfire, if he hasn't been comfortable enough to share it with _ us, alone_, before this point, it's probably not just a matter of belonging."

_ Krok always was a very keen mech, _ Megatron admired. _ A good quality for a leader, to be able to pick out the strengths and weaknesses of not only his opponents, but also his own team. _"Krok is right, isn't he?" Megatron pointedly asked Fulcrum.

Fulcrum dropped his gaze to the cube that was clutched in his hand, optics dim, and nodded stiffly. "Y-yeah…"

_ Primus, the kid looks like he's expecting to be executed _. "Fulcrum, whatever it is, I'm not going to offline you for it. I'm not the DJD, and I'm definitely not the Functionist Council." He noted how Fulcrum gaped at him, optics bright and wide, before continuing. "I'm just the captain of this ship, trying to understand the newest additions to my crew, even if they choose to stay only for a short while," he soothed with an apologetic smile.

Megatron placed his palms on the table surface and made to stand. "Come, I know this ship inside and out. There's a secure location where we'll be insulated from any nosy eavesdroppers."

The Scavengers followed Megatron's example, and stood, following silently after him as he led them through the Halls of the Lost Light.

The silence persisted into what many would consider awkwardness. Misfire was the first to break the silence. "So, where exactly are we going?"

"Rung's clinic. I'm sure he wouldn't mind if we borrowed it."

"Clinic?" Spinister piped up. "Was he a medic?"

"He was a psychologist, actually. A really good one, at that."

"We could really use more psychologists," Krok added with a sigh. "Maybe one of these solar cycles, I'll finally be able to open that clinic like I've dreamed of."

"Tell me more about this clinic," Megatron asked, a gentle smile playing on this faceplates that went unseen with his back to the group.

"In the aftermath of the great war, so many mechs have been left with lasting mental health problems. And yet, a staggering amount of Decepticons and other non-Autobots have refused treatment because they're afraid of the invasive, non-consensual Shadowplay employed by the Functionists in the past. So many bots out there need help, but are too terrified to get it. I want to create a psych clinic where bots won't have to fear processor violation and manipulation; where they can finally get the help they need."

"You know, Krok, I think I'd like to see your clinic become a reality, too." Megatron came to a stop in front of the door to Rung's clinic, and punched in the access code. "Maybe you could even start it here, aboard the Lost Light. That is, if you plan on sticking around for a while." The door slid open with a hiss, and Megatron stepped in, the rest following after. 

"Well, team? What do you think? Would you like to stay on the Lost Light?" Krok asked.

"I go wherever Krok goes," Spinister answered right away. _ Loyal to a fault, huh? _

"If Grimlock is also allowed to stay, then I'd love to stay," Misfire chipped in. 

_ Kid is such a sweetspark. Grimlock is dangerous, yes, but it's amazing how calm he can be around the kid, and the rest of the Scavengers _. "Grimlock is welcome to stay aboard the Lost Light," Megatron confirmed. 

"Yes!!" Misfire literally jumped for joy with an arm thrust victoriously in the air.

Fulcrum sighed. "Guess that means I'm staying..." He added quietly, though there was a small smile on his face and a glitter in his optics as he looked sidelong at Misfire. Megatron looked between Fulcrum and Misfire, a good-natured smirk growing on his own face. _ They'd make such a cute couple, if they aren't already together. Ahhh, young love... _

"Are dire wraiths allowed to visit?" Crankcase gruffly inquired, arms crossed, a mouth twisted down into a hard scowl.

Megatron's optical ridges shot up in surprise. "I don't know if I feel comfortable with allowing a dire wraith on board, but I think it would probably be permissible for you to borrow one of the smaller ships to visit with said dire wraith." 

"Alright, that's good enough for me."

"Looks like we're all in agreement. We will become a part of the Lost Light crew. Though, if it is possible, may our subgroup still be known as the Scavengers?" Krok inquired.

"I see no issues with allowing that. Right, now that that's settled… Let's make ourselves comfortable and listen to what Fulcrum has to share, no?" Megatron suggested.

There was some arguing over who would sit where, but eventually everyone had picked a spot. Crankcase shuffled with a grumble to take a seat in a plain chair off to the side of the room, folding his arms across his chassis. Krok meanwhile reclined into Rung's chair, one leg crossed over the other, with his fingers laced together comfortably in his lap. Spinister elected to stand behind Rung's chair, crossing his arms and resting them across the top of its back. Fulcrum, too, elected to stand, though Megatron wasn't sure if it was because he didn't feel like sitting down or if he was frozen in terror where he stood. He suspected it was the latter. Megatron took a seat on the edge of the berth opposite to Rung's chair, and Misfire sat down on the ground at the foot of the berth, leaning back against it.

"R-right, so, where to start…" Fulcrum seemed to shift uncomfortably from pede to pede. "I'm, what someone would call an -" Fulcrum's vocalizer cut off with an audible click, and his optic ridges lowered in concern. "That's weird, my vocalizer doesn't usually do that… let's try that again… I can- _ *click* _" Fulcrum frowned, rubbing at his throat cables. "Okay that's definitely not normal…" there was a slight edge to the orange mech's voice now; the beginnings of panic. 

"Maybe I'll start somewhere else? Okay, umm… I used to study under- _ *click*" _ Fulcrum winced, but continued. "My friends were all- _ *click* _ Some of their designations were Glitch, *_click* _ Thundercracker, Skywarp, and Soundwave!" Fulcrum looked up from the floor, optics blazing in equal measures of shock and triumph. "Ohhh thank Primus I'm finally getting somewhere!" Coolant began to well up in his optics, making them shimmer slightly, but his joy quickly melted into despair.

"Okay okay this next part isn't as nice. Please, please don't hate me, when I say I helped destroy the- _ *click* _ But I didn't have a choice! They forced me to do that!" The coolant that had welled up began to mark trails down his faceplates. "Ohh Primus I-I really didn't want to do that… Then, th-then they reassigned me to the _ *click* _ and I was never really sure why except to intimidate me, a-and they did a really good job of that, honestly, they did! I lived every day in fear of being _ *click* _ and even had my Terageese keep watch when I was in recharge. I-I thought I made out of there unscathed, b-but if these vocal glitches are any indication, then maybe they _ did _ actually manage to _ *click* _ me and then erased my memories of the event! Ahahaha!" The laugh was broken, close to a sob, and his hands came up to clutch at his helm as a look of pure horror hollowed his optics. "G-gods what else could they have done to me? Am I still me? Was I ever me? Are any of my memories before the _ *click* _real?"

With each click of Fulcrum's vocalizer, Megatron's expression had grown darker and darker. When Fulcrum started questioning reality, Megatron couldn't take it anymore. "Fulcrum."

"H-huh? What?" He met Megatron's gaze with wild, wet, optics. Megatron frowned.

"I'm going to recap what you said, and attempt to fill in the gaps from the context clues. I want you to nod yes or no when I get something right or wrong, okay? Can you do that?" Megatron attempted to keep his voice calm and gentle, despite the rage he felt burning within him for what those bots did to Fulcrum; what had almost happened to himself. _ Shadowplay, _ he internally snarled.

Fulcrum shakily nodded.

"The names you gave all have something in common. They're all Outliers, correct?"

"C-correct," Fulcrum said with a nod.

"Then that means you are also an Outlier, no?"

Fulcrum nodded.

"So you studied under Senator Shockwave, at his Jhiaxian Academy of Advanced Technology?"

Another nod, calmer this time.

"I remember that the Jhiaxian Academy was blown up in quite the spectacular fashion. You're saying you're the one who did it, but that you were forced to do so by some 'they'?"

A fresh bead of coolant ran down Fulcrum's cheek. He had offlined his optics by this point, the dim light of the room casting harsh shadows across his face in the absence of the soft golden glow from his optics. With dentae grit together, lips peeled back in a grimace, and fists clenched at his sides, shaking even as he tried to keep them still, Fulcrum nodded again, the action stiff and mechanical.

"Soundwave, Skywarp, and Thundercracker have all attested to me at various points in the past that the Functionists in the Senate were quite unhappy with the existence of Outliers and Shockwave's Academy. Were the Functionists the ones who made you blow up the Jhiaxian Academy?"

_ "Y-yes." _Fulcrum grit out angrily.

"And then the Functionists had you reassigned to some new place, some place where you were constantly afraid of having your processor tampered with. Some place where you were afraid of being Shadowplayed. Some place with lots of mnemosurgeons, no?"

Fulcrum jerkily nodded. "The. The needles. Th-they were everywhere."

"Was this place the New Institute?"

Another nod.

"I've seen your kind of Shadowplay before, Fulcrum. I've seen it before, in spies. It's meant as a countermeasure to interrogation, and a failsafe against blowing cover. Did the Functionists send you to spy on the Decepticons?"

Fulcrum winced, but nodded. "I'm so, so sorry. I-I- wanted to stop reporting, but I'd see them around the Decepticon bases, the flashes of those needles, the constant reminder of what would happen to me if I stopped. I d-don't even know if those were real; i-if they sent others to k-keep tabs on me, or if I was just reprogrammed to keep seeing those needles even if they weren't there, in order to keep me afraid."

The room was silent, all optics regarding the shivering mech with varying looks of hurt, pity, and suspicion. Spinister looked like he was barely restraining the urge to murder someone.

It was Krok who broke the silence first. "Have you ever reported on us?"

Fulcrum shook his head. "N-no. H-haven't been contacted since… Since Styx. They must think I'm dead. 'M glad for it. Never want to betray you mechs. N-never. Even if 'm not really a Decepticon, you all are family. W-would never willingly sell you out. I don't like what the alternative would say about me…" he smiled bitterly at that, and chuckled hoarsely, coolant still running down his cheeks. 

Misfire stood up from where he was sitting at the foot of the berth, walked toward Fulcrum, and wrapped him up in a wordless hug. And then, one by one, the rest of the Scavengers followed suit. 

Even from where Megatron was sitting, he could feel how their EM fields had expanded in order to shower Fulcrum in warmth and comfort and acceptance. Megatron felt like he was witnessing something sacred, and was hesitant to join in, even though he too wanted to comfort the small orange mech who was now openly sobbing into the collective embrace of his teammates; _ his family_. Megatron settled for a kind smile and some gentle words instead. "You're going to be alright, Fulcrum. You're safe here, on the Lost Light. As long as I am the captain, I will see to it that they will never be able to twist you again."

_ "Th-thank you, Megatron," _Fulcrum eked out through his happy sobbing.

Megatron gave them a long moment, waiting until the group hug began to loosen, before willing himself to speak once more. "There is one thing that, that I am _ loathe _ to even _ suggest, _ given what you've been through, but, I believe it would help you."

Fulcrum met his gaze, a mix of hesitancy and hope flickering within his wet, golden optics. "What is it?"

"The mnemosurgeon on board - _ Chromedome _ \- while I have my own severe hang-ups about mnemosurgery, I've come to trust him. Maybe not enough to let him anywhere near my own brain module - no, I wouldn't trust _ anyone _ around my processor - but, I trust him enough to do the right thing. He's a good mech. I trust that he would listen to any instructions or restrictions you might have. More importantly, and the reason I even suggest this at all, is that he may be able to check over your memory files, inform you of precisely _ what, _if anything, has been tampered with, and begin work on undoing the anti-interrogation programming. Perhaps, if those needles you kept seeing were the work of an implanted program, you'll stop seeing those, too. Ultimately, this is your decision, though. I don't want to force you into this course of action, but it may be worth it for the peace of processor."

Fulcrum seemed sullen, yet contemplative. "I.. I trust him, too. He doesn't remember me, but I remember him - he was one of the only mechs keeping me sane in _ that place. _ The only mnemosurgeon I could trust not to tamper with my processor." The sorrow and tenderness that seeped from Fulcrum in those words seemed to saturate the air, and linger there for a while until it morphed into determination. "I want this. I want the lingering claws of their influence out of my processor as soon as possible. But, I don't know if I will be able to explain what's happened to him very adequately. Could, um, could one of you tell him what's been done to my processor?"

"I can do that for you," Megatron agreed with a nod. "Would you like me to comm Chromedome right now?"

Fulcrum hesitated, but then nodded shakily once, and then a second time, this one more confident. "Can um, can the rest of my family stay during?"

"I don't think that should be an issue, as long as they don't distract Chromedome while he's working on you. I don't want to imagine what a slip-up could do. Though, if he decides everyone should clear out, I can promise that _ I _ at least will still be here."

"Good. I don't want to be alone…"

Megatron nodded. And then he remembered something, smiling. "One more thing. You never did explain how you were able to hack Autopedia."

All eyes were back on Fulcrum, but this time he was smiling and relaxed. "I think I'll be able to explain better after Chromedome is done, but for now… let's just say Misfire's suspicions in Swerve's were correct."

Misfire's jaw dropped, and he gripped Fulcrum by both shoulders, shaking him slightly. "No way! I actually got that right?? You can _ talk _ to _ technology?!"_

A goofy, embarrassed smile wormed onto Fulcrum's faceplates. "Y-yes, though only the non-sentient kind…"

Misfire hugged him tightly all of a sudden, which seemed to catch him off guard. "Oh my god I had no idea my 'junx was actually cool! Fulcrum, you're the best and I'm sorry for calling you a loser all the time."

Fulcrum's faceplates had tinged so pink with energon that they almost weren't orange anymore. "I am a loser, though!" He weakly protested with an awkward laugh, but then added bashfully, "but I'm _ your _loser," and hugged Misfire back.

"Alright _ fine_, but nobody else gets to call you a loser, got it?" Misfire said possessively, and the other Scavengers chuckled lightly, even Crankcase, who wore the smallest of smiles.

Fulcrum responded by nodding against Misfire's neck cables with a genuine smile of his own.

Megatron's spark felt warm as he too smiled at the pair, and the rest of the assembled group, while they waited for Chromedome to arrive. _ I'm so glad to have met these mechs_.

**Author's Note:**

> I should probably mention that I subscribe to the theory that Fulcrum used to be Pivot, one of CD's "dead" Conjunx Endurae. Everything else just sort of spiraled from there.


End file.
